


Precious

by saladhime



Series: Strawberries, Cherries and a Human [4]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Body Horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Wingfic, tw: slight graphic violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saladhime/pseuds/saladhime
Summary: Rasmus has a nightmare.
Relationships: Martin "Wunder" Hansen/Rasmus "Caps" Winther
Series: Strawberries, Cherries and a Human [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666306
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	Precious

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> As always, I hope you guys are staying safe! It feels like things get crazier everyday...  
> Anyways, this fic is DRASTICALLY different from what I've written before, but I hope you'll like it! This may come as a surprise, but horror is one of my favorite genres, so this fic was a ton of fun to write! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the fic and have a great day/night!

_ You keep whispering _

_ That low voice of yours _

_ Keeps me from falling asleep _

_ - _

It’s dark and Rasmus is running.

The hall is dark and Rasmus can feel what seem to be fingers nipping at his heels, at his back, at his wings. It terrifies him. He’s panting and his legs start to feel heavy. He wants to stop. He wants to give himself a moment to catch his breath. 

He can’t.

Not when the fingers bite at his heels, making him stagger and slow. Not when the fingers manage to pluck a feather from his wings. 

He forces himself forward, stumbling and gulping in what air he can, but the dark suffocates him as he runs. The fingers are still running towards him, ravenous and feral. He doesn’t dare look back. 

Rasmus doesn’t know how long he’d been running, but what he does know is that when he finally sees that sliver of light peeking just ahead of him, he feels a surge of hope. It was almost over, he was  _ almost there. _ It was just ahead and all Rasmus had to do was  _ run.  _

It’s then that the fingers curl around his ankle and Rasmus stops breathing.

He falls to the ground then. It’s earthy and damp and smells as though it is rotting. It makes bile rise in Rasmus’s dry throat, but nothing comes of it. There’s no screaming as the fingers crawl along his body, swarming his back until they surround his wings. 

He knows what’s coming next.

The fingers begin to rip and tear at the feathers, and Rasmus wails without sound as they pluck him dry, leaving only scarred muscle and thin bone. He knows his back must be painted red by now, the blood dripping along his sides. He can’t move, his body twitching as it burns with pain, tears streaming from his face into the rotten dirt. The fingers don’t leave their spot, but he can still feel them pressing down, and it scares him. It scares him because they’re not done. They wanted more. 

That’s when they start to pull at the tattered remains of his wings. 

Rasmus can't make a sound when he opens his mouth to scream now, his hands scrabbling against the dirt trying to make sense of the pain. They pull harder, the bones popping out of his back and the muscle tearing and Rasmus screeches in his head as the skin cracks.

Finally, the fingers pull the wings free and Rasmus can do nothing but sob into the ground, his own fingers long stilled and his body lay defiled and bloodied. The fingers dance along his back before attacking at their prize ravenously, tearing at the muscle and the flesh, touting the bones as a trophy. 

There’s silence for a bit then, as Rasmus’s breaths stutter and the fingers hop off his body and into the surrounding dark. They leave Rasmus a pulp, and it’s all he can do to keep himself awake despite the pain. Weakly, he tries pulling his arms up to try and crawl forward but lets out a feeble cry and drops it back down, the pain unbearable. 

He stays like that then, the light once so close feeling farther than ever before.

-

Rasmus jerks awake when he feels a large hand tap onto his shoulder, springing up as he pants heavily and frantically swatting away the appendage. He can’t hear or see a thing, and his hands grip his bedsheets as he forces himself to settle down. Slowly, he starts to feel the plush of his bed under him, and the weight of the blankets against his legs. Then, once he feels in control of his arms, scrambles to have them against his back, and sobs as he feels the silk plush of his feathers.

His wings are still there.

He still has his wings.

He is in Berlin, in the G2 gaming house, in his room.

He is home.

And when Rasmus blinks and rubs his eyes to slow the tears and take in the scenery, he sees his boyfriend Martin. Behind him, the rest of his teammates, all looking at him with apprehension and concern. 

He can see Martin sitting on the side of the bed, still recoiling from Rasmus’s slap from earlier. He can see Luka looking at him with pity and an ache that made Rasmus believe it wasn’t his first time seeing this, and he can see Mihael and Marcin looking as though they were about to cry. 

There’s a moment of silence as Rasmus gathers his thoughts. He wants to say something,  _ anything  _ to his teammates to comfort them but his throat clenches and tightens, rendering him voiceless and small.

Rasmus doesn’t have to though, because Martin is the first to speak through the heavy stillness.

“Rasmus? Rasmus, a-are you okay?” He asks gently, and Rasmus feels the tears begin to pool in his eyes and flow once more as he shakes his head. He hopes Martin understands.

And Martin does. He  _ always  _ does.

“Can I touch you Rasmus?” asks again, voice soft but firm in what it asked of him, of Rasmus.

Of course, Rasmus nods. Almost immediately, there is a large and warm hand settling on his shoulder. It sits there for a moment, letting Rasmus get used to its presence. Then there’s a second hand on his other shoulder. And soon enough he’s being pulled into Martin’s arms and he buries his face in his boyfriend’s broad chest, sniveling into his sweater. 

Martin’s fingers are different from the ones from his nightmares. Martin’s fingers are gentle, they run up and along his back soothingly, and don’t pull or tug. They keep Rasmus safe, they comfort him. They love and adore him, and as he sobs into Martin’s chest, he feels the fingers of his other teammates, each coming up to hug and console the smaller male. 

Luka’s fingers are strong and experienced as they run through his messy hair, knowing just the right pressure and just the right volume of his humming. Marcin’s fingers are lithe, trembling a bit as they run along his sides, but comforting in their own way nevertheless. Mihael’s fingers are long and thin, and his movements are mellow yet placating along his back.

He’s surrounded by love, not darkness. And the fingers don’t nip and pull at him. He’s not running, he’s stationary and safe in the arms of his boyfriend and the rest of his dear teammates. His wings tremble, and flutter just the tiniest bit when the fingers pull back, but their presence still warm and close. 

Rasmus shudders as he pulls back from Martin’s chest ever so slightly to face his teammates, voice hoarse as he spoke.

“I-I’m so sorry for scaring you guys…I just...I haven’t had a nightmare this bad before and I’m really sorry for making you guys worry ‘bout me...” He murmured. 

Luka speaks first, to the surprise of everyone in the room.

“Don’t be, Rasmus. We take care of each other, on and off the rift no? There’s nothing to be ashamed about.” His words are unflinching and resolute, and make Rasmus’s eyes widen just a bit.

Mihael speaks next, his voice as mellowed as the touch of his fingers but the warmth is still there.

“Everyone gets nightmares,  _ Pomlad _ . It’s okay though, ‘cause I’ll be your support irl too even if that means my back hurts.” The words make Rasmus snicker, and Rasmus blinks when he feels Martin’s chest rumble.

“Do you...want to sleep alone or-”

Martin’s words are cut off by Marcin’s voice, somehow quietly able to boom around the small room.

“Sleepover in Rasmus’s room!” 

As Rasmus watches as his teammates scramble out the room to grab their pillows and blankets, he doesn’t feel Martin move at all, and he giggles quietly as Martin huffs. 

“I know it comes from a good place but geez, he could’ve let me finish.” Martin grumbles, but there’s no malice, and he pulls Rasmus closer as the voices of their teammates ring through the house.

Rasmus settles even further into Martin’s warmth, smiling softly as he tugs at Martin’s shirt. Martin lowers his head then ever so slightly, and Rasmus pecks his lips quickly. It leaves the taller male with a pink flush along his cheeks and a kindly smile.

And when his teammates come back into the room, Rasmus knows he’s safe. That these are people who love him, who would never hurt him.

He falls asleep to a dreamless haze, smiling ever so softly.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My Social Medias:  
> Twitter: Junvous  
> Tumblr: Saladhime
> 
> Anyways, I'm super proud of G2 for pulling though and winning! They really did put on a show for their playoff run lmao... we love to see caps giving a big fuck you to all the incels telling him to swap back like we really do love to see it!!!.....anyways now that LEC is over for the time being there goes my sense of time and schedule..................


End file.
